with a bloody hand;
    How hold their cause so wildly dear, and then
    Forget the women of your native land? 
    With your stern ardor and your scholar’s word
    You speak to us of human liberty;
    Can you believe that women are not stirred
    By this same human longing to be free? 
      He who for liberty would strike a blow
      Need not take arms, or fly to Mexico.

Home and Where It Is

(An Indiana judge has recently ruled:  As to the right of the husband to decide the location of the home that “home is where the husband is.”)

    Home is where the husband is,
    Be it near or be it far,
    Office, theatre, Pullman car,
    Poolroom, polls, or corner bar—­
    All good wives remember this—­
    Home is where the husband is.

    Woman’s place is home, I wis. 
    Leave your family bacon frying,
    Leave your wash and dishes drying,
    Leave your little children crying;
    Join your husband, near or far,
    At the club or corner bar,
    For the court has taught us this: 
    “Home is where the husband is.”

The Maiden’s Vow

(A speaker at the National Education Association advised girls not to study algebra.  Many girls, he said, had lost their souls through this study.  The idea has been taken up with enthusiasm.)

    I will avoid equations,
      And shun the naughty surd,
    I must beware the perfect square,
      Through it young girls have erred: 
    And when men mention Rule of Three
      Pretend I have not heard.

    Through Sturm’s delightful theorems
      Illicit joys assure,
    Though permutations and combinations
      My woman’s heart allure,
    I’ll never study algebra,
      But keep my spirit pure.

Such Nonsense

("Where on earth did the idea come from that the ballot is a boon, a privilege and an honor?  From men.”—­Mrs. Prestonia Mann Martin.)

    Who is it thinks the vote some use? 
    Man. (Man is often such a goose!)
    Indeed it makes me laugh to see
    How men have struggled to be free.

    Poor Washington, who meant so well,
    And Nathan Hale and William Tell,
    Hampden and Bolivar and Pym,
    And L’Ouverture—­remember him?

    And Garibaldi and Kossuth,
    And some who threw away their youth,
    All bitten by the stupid notion
    That liberty was worth emotion.

    They could not get it through their heads
    That if they stayed tucked up in beds,
    Avoiding politics and strife,
    They’d lead a pleasant, peaceful life.

    Let us, dear sisters, never make
    Such a ridiculous mistake;
    But teach our children o’er and o’er
    That liberty is just a chore.